
Every once in a while, my entire foursome will be off their game. Sure, typically one or two of us will pretend we're Lewis & Clark on a wilderness surveying mission, but all four? That's a bit rare. But, it happens.One of the consequences of this anomaly is the course ranger. I penned a post last year about how starters hate me. Well, sometimes the course rangers hate me too. Who are these officers of the links, mounted on their E-Z-GO steeds?I'm well-aware of when my group is playing wretchedly. When the four of us have been poking around the edge of the woods, searching for where we "think" our balls should have ended up, I'll glance back at the tee and see the foursome behind us. They're standing there with their legs crossed; one hand...